


all i want, all i need, all i see

by epiproctan



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Anal Fingering, Being Walked In On, Fluff, Frottage, M/M, Masturbation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn Video, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-17
Updated: 2017-11-17
Packaged: 2019-02-03 14:45:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12750435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/epiproctan/pseuds/epiproctan
Summary: I’ll give you three guesses on how Shiro’s going to spend his evening. No, it’s not baking cookies, and no, it’s not sitting on the couch until he falls asleep with the TV on. Here’s a hint: his roommate is out for the night and his favorite porn star, Keith Kogane, has recently released a new video.Is Shiro going to spend the evening jacking off by himself? Bingo.(Or is he.)





	all i want, all i need, all i see

**Author's Note:**

> should i have written this? no.  
> did i have a blast doing it? yes.

Shiro drew the bedroom curtains closed.

That, there, was the last step. He’d already locked the front door and turned off the lights in the living room and the kitchen. His bedroom door was shut, his apartment silent, and his laptop powered up and resting on his comforter. His phone was switched to Do Not Disturb and sitting on the desk across the room. It was almost picturesque: the inviting spread of his pillows, the computer waiting patiently to the side, the lights dimmed, and the small bottle of lube tucked among the folds of the sheets.

It’d been a little while since Shiro had had the opportunity to get himself off. He was rarely at home alone, and work ate so frequently and ravenously into his free time that it was an unfortunate impossibility most of the time. But tonight. Tonight, his work schedule had decided to relent for once, and his roommate had left to spend time with some friends nearly an hour ago.

And as luck would have it, his favorite porn star had recently released a new video that he’d been itching to watch.

So 9 PM found him sprawling across the bed, taking as much room as he wanted, propping himself up on the plush pillows he’d bought in an effort to help his sleep. He was exhausted, and the threat of unconsciousness that always hovered over him as soon as his body met a horizontal surface made its presence known, but Shiro was too excited about this video to let it touch him.

There was a reason for that, and the reason was Keith Kogane.

Keith Kogane was sex incarnate. And yet, Keith Kogane was so much more than that, too. He was unselfconscious allure. He was raw and dangerous sensuality. Sometimes in the way his eyes flashed at his partners in these videos he looked just as ready to open their throats with a knife as to open up his own throat for their cocks. His hair was always unkempt and sex-tousled even before he had undressed, and it was the perfect length and texture for pulling and tugging by hungry fingers. His body was perfectly lined with the definition of his smooth muscles, but he was lithe and naturally slender. The way he moved on camera was sinful, all hips and subtle appeal even when walking around with his clothes on. He kissed like the universe depended on it; he fucked like his body had been built for this sole, specific purpose.

Shiro sighed the moment he appeared on screen.

He had no need for the set-up, really. Not that there was much of one. If he was to be honest Keith’s acting skills weren’t his strong point, at least as far as reciting lines went. He was a porn actor with strong emphasis on the porn and less on the actor, but that was fine. It was better than fine. Once the clothes were off his body he did it for Shiro better than the star of any other adult video Shiro had ever seen.

Actually, usually even before his clothes were off his body. This particular film was dark and star-speckled: a space theme. Keith wore a black and purple bodysuit so tight the definition of his quad muscles cast a shadow. Shiro took the time to admire his excellent proportions. He imagined both being pinned to a mattress by him and also fitting his arms tight around that slender waist. He encapsulated a breathtaking duality, strength and grace. The plot had something to do with becoming initiated into a secret alien society, but Shiro was paying far more attention to Keith’s ass and the delicate shape of his pale throat than the lines spoken.

The actor on screen got naked, as directed by some alien decree. Inch by pale inch of creamy soft skin was bared to the camera, leaving Keith eventually in nothing but a rich purple thong. It was— _Lord have mercy on Shiro’s soul_ —exquisitely lacy and clung with maddening obstinacy to Keith’s contours and his curves. The contrast against his skin tone left Shiro eyeing its edge, thoughtful and appreciative, breath catching in his throat. Keith was nearly hairless all over and the smoothness of his skin looked to be incomparable to any other human sensation. Transcendent.

This, and only this, was all it took to get Shiro achingly hard.

Like the actor on screen, Shiro too kicked off his clothes. His pants were lost over the edge of the bed, soon followed by his shirt. His body was starting to feel too hot and too tight, so the drag of his boxer briefs over his cock was a friction that had him aching to wrap his fingers around himself. But he waited, waited until Keith was dragging lines down his body with lube-soaked fingers, stopping only when he’d found his hand beneath him. The camera graciously angled behind him, Keith pushed aside the fabric of the thong to reveal a pink hole. Shiro fought the urge to lick his computer screen.

Instead he watched Keith dive into himself. There was no hesitation. No gentle start, no careful stretching, no easing in. He plunged two fingers heedlessly inside, making Shiro inhale sharply with the same motion. Though Shiro realistically knew there had to be some off-screen preparation involved in that, the unhesitating boldness made his heart slam against the inside of his ribcage. Keith made a reckless and brazen show of scissoring his fingers and driving them in hard, angling his wrist for the camera.

With this he drew moans out of himself. Shiro found most porn stars’ noises forced and overdramatic, but he wished he could drink Keith’s in through his mouth and let them reverberate in his chest, his stomach, his lower body. Keith’s voice was pure arousal, rasping and hot, and every pitch seemed to be full of promises for more. As he fucked himself on his fingers, moving from two to three, they became louder, more aggressive, more beautiful, and the frantic wet sounds of his movements set a filthy rhythm. This was the overture that graced Shiro’s most favorite dreams.

Unable to help himself any more, Shiro wrapped a hand around his cock. He imagined that it was his own fingers pumping in and out of the slippery hole on his computer, readying it for himself. Keith always looked breathtakingly tight, like he would constrict around Shiro with the most beautiful pressure, like Shiro could chase a yet undiscovered kind of high inside of him. While Keith crooked his fingers onscreen, Shiro imagined sinking into that, testing its walls, feeling them squeeze around him.

His hand seemed a poor substitute for that imagined sensation, but that was the unfortunate truth of an otherworldly porn star, existing in all their glory and glamor on your computer screen alone. Just the visual of Keith before him could supply him with worthwhile orgasms for probably the duration of his entire life, though.

“God, Keith,” Shiro moaned quietly, running his palm over the head of his cock.

On screen, Keith was getting desperate. He removed his fingers, leaving his hole a perfect dark ‘o’, and dragged the thong down his thighs, all the while vociferously stating his need for a huge cock, for a hard fucking. He begged to be taken.

_I could give that to you_ , thought Shiro hungrily, but it was Keith’s partner in the video who was spreading lube along his cock in preparation to fulfill Keith’s wishes. Keith, meanwhile, was getting ready, standing with legs spread and braced. He reached behind again to paw at his ass cheek, spreading himself wide for the camera. The view centered on this, on the lube-wet gleaming rim of his hole, on his perfect shape.

“Shiro?”

The voice rang through the house like a fire alarm, punctuated by the sound of the front door slamming shut behind an entering individual.

_Shit_. Shiro checked the time. It was only 9:30. He said he’d be out all night!

“Shiro,” he called again. “I know you’re in here somewhere.”

Shiro lunged to pull out of fullscreen and minimize the window, but by the time he’d crawled over to the computer, it was too late. The bedroom door had swung open, and Shiro’s roommate had entered the room.

They both froze for a long moment, and Shiro had never felt more embarrassingly put on display. His pants were woefully far away and in no position to cover any part of his nakedness. He’d paused the video, but Keith’s ass was obscenely visible and taking up most of the screen, hole wide and wanting as he gazed over his shoulder, mouth open mid-word as he begged for a cock. A hot blush filled not only Shiro’s cheeks but spread all over his body as they continued to stare at each other, heated by shame and embarrassment.

“I thought I told you,” Shiro’s roommate said as he took a deliberate step into the room and shut the door behind him, “not to watch my videos while I’m at home.”

“Keith,” Shiro moaned again, this time despairing. “You weren’t supposed to be back yet.”

Keith looked at the computer screen and scowled, but picked his way closer anyway. “Well, I’m here.”

Even frowning, he was a sight to behold. His cheeks were pinkened, either from the bite of the wind outside or the complete wreckage of dignity that was laid out before him, but the color was so precious that Shiro’s embarrassment was momentarily covered by the urge to gather Keith’s face between his hands and kiss it. In its usual disarray, Keith’s hair fell into his burning, beautiful, dark-lashed eyes. Even though he was just dressed in his usual black t-shirt and dark jeans, Shiro couldn’t help but admire the way his clothes fit him with a casual grace. When Keith drew closer to Shiro, Shiro looked up into his face and saw that everything there was perfect.

Keith pressed a hand to Shiro’s shoulder and pushed him back down into a sit on the edge of the bed. With the same fluid motion he used onscreen, he promptly straddled Shiro’s lap. Their bodies fit together like cogs in a fine-tuned machine. Shiro was reminded of his own nakedness when Keith’s jeans rubbed against his thighs, but Keith’s hands on his shoulders distracted him with their heat.

“I’m sorry, baby,” Shiro said, and slid his arms around Keith’s waist. “I won’t watch them anymore if you don’t want me to.”

The sternness in Keith’s face softened. He placed both hands flat against Shiro’s bare chest.

“I don’t mind. It’s just…embarrassing,” Keith explained, and gestured towards the computer, where the curves of his ample bottom still filled most of the screen. This close, Shiro could tell that his breath was tinged with the scent of alcohol. The fact that he was tipsy softened the experience, and Shiro knew he wasn’t truly mad. “I don’t really need to see my own gaping asshole.”

“Why not?” Shiro said. “It’s beautiful.”

“I’d rather look at yours.”

With this Keith leaned down until the tips of their noses were brushing, eyes burning straight into Shiro. Shiro only had a second to wonder if he had to initiate before Keith pushed forward and met Shiro at the mouth. His kiss was somehow needier and wetter than it appeared on screen, already open-mouthed and fierce. Shiro barely had a chance to breathe before Keith’s tongue shoved past his teeth, but he welcomed the ferocity of it. Keith had a way of stirring Shiro up like no one else ever had.

Just as quickly as it began, Keith pulled away, then took his teeth to Shiro’s throat, leaving marks as he went.

“You’re lucky I love you,” Keith said into the skin of his neck.

“I am,” Shiro replied, panting. Keith always left him breathless. “I’m so lucky.”

With measured smoothness, Keith ground down against Shiro’s forgotten erection. The rough texture of his jeans was just a breath away from too much, and Shiro groaned and pulled Keith closer. Keith’s hands became greedy, one shoving between their chests to get a good feel at the muscle there, the other clutching at Shiro’s hip.

Keith gave a backwards glance towards the computer.

“I guess…we can finish watching the video if you want,” he said.

“I don’t have to,” Shiro replied, his fingers relieving Keith of his pants with practiced grace. “I’ve got the real thing right here.”

Rising to step out of his pants, Keith relocated the laptop to the less precarious position of the bedside table. “I’ll leave that for you to enjoy later then,” he said, his voice low and rough. Sometimes Shiro was forced to wonder if Keith found it just as arousing that Shiro could get off to him when he wasn’t even physically present as Shiro did that he could see Keith’s delicately-shaped cock whenever it pleased him.

Keith shucked off his shirt while he was at it, and then returned to the bed by way of pushing Shiro back against the pillows, crawling up the length of his body until he was a cage over his torso.

“Do you like it?” he asked in a frequency that had Shiro’s cock twitching where it rested against Keith’s hipbone.

“I love all your videos, baby,” Shiro replied, and sunk his fingers into Keith’s hair to draw him down for a kiss.

Keith’s boxers were still on, but that didn’t stop him from grinding slow and dirty against Shiro. Through the fabric the lengths of their cocks lined up, pressing and sliding against each other. Keith moaned, right into Shiro’s mouth, the frequency of it buzzing down his throat, into his nerves and his veins. Where Keith’s lips and tongue fit against him, Shiro could feel all his heat and warmth and desire for the man on screen returned to him tenfold.

Drawing back a little bit to see the embers catching in Keith’s eyes, Shiro ran his fingers through his hair and rocked his hips against him.

“Why are you home so early, anyway?” he asked, and his voice was the darkest shade of crimson.

“I missed you,” Keith said breathlessly, and then proceeded to kick off his boxers.

Shiro licked his lips and swallowed audibly. He got a glimpse of Keith’s perfect, tight stomach and the dip of his pelvis leading down to his picturesque, perfect cock before Keith was sprawling over him again. Rolling reflexively against him, Shiro hummed a sound of pure pleasure when Keith reached up to scratch his fingers through Shiro’s hair.

Shiro snaked a hand between them and found Keith’s cock, its curve pretty and enticing against Shiro’s fingers. Gathering up his own cock as well, he pressed the two of them together, the sensation of touching Keith so intimately stirring new levels of warmth deep inside his gut. Without prompting, Keith began to rock against him, driving into Shiro’s fist, against Shiro’s erection.

“I’m not going to last, baby,” Shiro gasped against Keith’s lips.

Keith nosed up under his jaw, breathing hot and wet against his throat, and rocked down harder. “Then you shouldn’t have started without me.”

Shiro tightened his grip, trying to dig his thumb in where he knew Keith liked it. “It wasn’t without you.”

The noise that came from Keith was something filthy, low, and befitting of a porn star. Of the best porn star that Shiro had ever had the pleasure of witnessing on screen. And to think, that same person was now here in his arms, their skin sliding against each other, Keith’s teeth in the skin of his neck and his hands mapping the muscles of his torso. Shiro’s breath came faster, his heart beat a desperate thunder. He was so lucky to have this beautiful man, this unfairly, ethereally erotic creature shifting against him, moving within him, accepting him inside of him, night after night. But more than that, to get to look him in the eyes, to see the affection and warmth there, as he panted and gasped his rapid way towards orgasm and called Shiro’s name, was one of the greatest treasures of Shiro’s life.

Another was knowing that as soon as they were finished with this, as soon as Keith curled in against Shiro and let himself go over Shiro’s stomach, Shiro could wrap his arms around this man and tuck him into his chest and fall asleep with his face pressed into his hair.

Shiro’s free hand slid behind Keith and traced the line of his spine from its dip mid-back down, down, down. He paused to take a handful of Keith’s ass, to grab it and squeeze. He had a distant fantasy of Keith going into the studio already wearing a handprint-shaped bruise, but that could be achieved another time. For now he slid his fingers into the cleft and traced the rim of Keith’s hole. He was rewarded with a moan and the stuttering of hips that turned into an acceleration of their pace. The mattress protested beneath them.

And Shiro couldn't stop looking. Keith was everything. How he looked, how he moved, how he felt against Shiro’s skin. How he talked and how he smiled and what he looked like when he was so in love, feeling so good, in Shiro’s arms. The joy of having this brimmed and then spilled over.

“I love you,” Shiro said, and to his delight, Keith came, just like that.

He felt the shudders of it against his full body, heard the sacred prayer being formed out of his name. Keith couldn’t keep his eyes open but in the last seconds before the crash he was looking at Shiro with an expression that inspired all the warm aches in Shiro’s chest. Keith’s cock spasmed against Shiro’s, and the heat of him spilled out across Shiro’s skin.

Shiro dragged him through it, and seeing Keith undone and pulled apart, was not far behind. He kept his eyes on Keith, beautiful Keith, and poured himself out between their bodies.

It took some time for him to gather his breath again, and Keith, the hot, wonderful weight on his chest, wasn’t helping. The problem was worsened when Keith reared his head, baring warm, sex-softened eyes and strands of hair matted to his forehead with sweat, and pressed his lips to Shiro’s. The kiss clashed beautifully with the frantic heat of the space they had occupied just a moment ago, slow and steady, quietly open-mouthed, sharing, giving.

This wasn’t a kiss Keith let the cameras document. This was something esoteric. For Shiro alone.

Keith rolled off and grabbed for the tissue box on the bedside table. They gently wiped themselves from each other’s skin, and then Keith took the dirtied tissues and tossed them all to the ground beside the bed. Before Shiro could even consider reprimanding him he was shuffling himself back into Shiro’s space, worming into the waiting gap between his arms, pressing his face into the junction of his shoulder and his neck. He sighed, bliss and contentment exuding from him in the way that his bare body laid smooth and warm and perfectly curved around Shiro’s.

“I guess I’ll have to find some other time to finish that video,” Shiro said, a mocking lament.

“Or you could just look at me instead,” Keith murmured into his collarbone. If the slur of his words was any indication, sleep was coming for him, and fast.

“I’m always looking at you, baby,” Shiro replied.

When Keith fell into a gentle slumber against Shiro’s chest, he was smiling something loving, and angelic, and pure.

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr](http://epiproctan.tumblr.com/) [twitter](https://twitter.com/epiproctan)


End file.
